Dinner Guests
by Zayz
Summary: [Complete][LJ] Who knew that, out of all the people in the world, Mrs. Evans had to make friends with Mrs. Potter at the grocery store and invite the family to dinner? Obviously someone that wasn't a friend of Lily Evans, that's for sure.
1. Horrible News

**Chapter 1: Horrible News**

_This is Lily's POV, taking place during the summer before sixth year. When I first began to write this, I intended it to be a one-shot. Of course, being as attached to stories the way I am, I could never write something like this in only one chapter; therefore, I had to divide it up into more chapters. Still, this thread is a lot of fun and I loved it from the start; you get to see a side of Lily that is completely unromantic, and it was an enjoyable experience for me to explore it. Haha. The disclaimer jazz is at bottom. Enjoy!_

"Lily!" My mother called me from downstairs. "Lily, get down here! I have to tell you something!"

I sighed and put down the book I had been reading; my mother always had some strange announcement or another to give me, usually during the times when I desperately wanted to be alone. I dragged myself downstairs and into the kitchen, where my mother was busily flipping through her paper-stuffed briefcase on the counter. She was a journalist for the local newspaper, though I wasn't quite sure how that happened; organization is not really my mother's forte, and when you have to write as much as she does, organization is a key thing you need to have.

"Yes mum?" I said, trying to make my company known; I knew fully well that she would forget I was there if she was in the middle of something and I stayed silent.

"There you are, Lil," she said, putting down her briefcase for a moment to give me a hasty hug. "We're having dinner guests here tonight, and I want you to help me get ready for it."

Surprise, surprise; though I loved her, my mother rarely knew what she was doing, and in such times, I was enlisted as her second in command.

"When are they coming?" I had to know how much time I had to work with; that would help me determine how fancy I needed to get.

"About seven thirty," she told me, dumping a few loose papers onto the kitchen table. "But Lisa is very prompt, so we have to be ready at about seven twenty-five."

Knowing my mum, that would probably never happen, and if it did, it would require much physical exertion on my part.

"Does she have any kids?" I asked.

"Yes, one," my mother answered. "James or something like that."

I grimaced. "Mum, you know that you're not allowed to say the J-word in this house."

"Sorry dear," she apologized vacantly while trying to tug something out of her briefcase again. "But be polite, would you? I want to make a nice impression; Lisa hardly knows me."

"Then why is she coming to dinner?" I asked, mystified.

"Because I want to get to know her, silly!" She said this as though it was very obvious and I was being particularly obtuse. "I met her in line at the grocery store the other day, and she is a delightful lady. Her son is your age exactly, and I think you'll get along marvelously; he has very nice manners."

"Does he," I said, unimpressed. "What is their surname, do you know?"

"Potter," my mum informed me. "Her name is Lisa Potter, and her son's name is James Potter. Her husband…what was her husband's name again? I think it was Brian."

I froze up after the first sentence, ignoring everything after the J-word. "P-Potter, did you say?" I stuttered, hardly daring to believe my horrible fortune. I thought that I had been free of him on the last day of school! How could he follow me like this?!

"Yes, I said Potter," my mother said, seemingly unaware of my reaction as she pulled away at something else in her briefcase. "There's that story I was looking for; I told Mr. Universe that I had it, and I did!" she said in a sing-song voice, momentarily distracted by the uniting of her and her papers.

Mr. Universe was our nickname for Mum's boss at the paper, since he was quite arrogant and did fancy himself as the ruler of the universe. He was rather harsh if you didn't have your stories for him on time, and because my mum had a talent for journalism, he was more lenient; however, he did crack down hard on her once in a while, and it was definitely a thing to celebrate if she were free of that. But now was not the time to think about Mr. Universe; I had a much more pressing matter at hand that I had to take care of.

"Mum, we can _not_ have James Potter and his family in our house for dinner," I said. "Especially not tonight when I'm not ready."

"Nonsense, Lily!" my mother dismissed airily. "I don't know what's so wrong about the boy; he seems very sweet."

"He's very clever; of course he would give you a positive first impression," I said hysterically. "That way, when you see him, he can disguise his evilness with more ease! He uses this tactic at school all the time; that's why he gets away with so much."

"Lily, you are being quite asinine," Mum said. "You are blowing this tiny little party out of proportion. You will be fine, all right? James is a lovely child, and even if he isn't, he won't misbehave while we parents are around."

"You don't know James like I do, Mum," I wailed. "You don't know how much he gets away with! You can't do this to me!"

"Relax," my mother said easily. "You will be fine. Now see if you can find anything in the refrigerator that we can warm up for tonight, and if there isn't, I will need your help with the cooking. You will also have to run over to Patricia's house and fetch Petunia; I want her to be here for this. Your father will be out of town tonight, so have her set the table for six."

"Why," I moaned as I trudged to the fridge. "You tore me away from my book, and now you try putting me in the company of James Potter? Is there no end to the calamity being thrown at me?"

"I don't want to hear any of that tonight, Lily," my mother chastised. "Be polite; it shall be a pleasant evening if you keep an open mind."

"Does being polite allow utter muteness tonight until they are safely out of our house?"

My mother sighed. "You will say hello, lead them to the drawing room, entertain James while we talk, eat with us, offer a little bit of conversation, then wish them good-bye," she said. "That's six major things you need to do; can you try your best to do them?"

"Will you pay me fifty pounds?"

"Of course not! I should not have to pay you to exercise good manners!"

"Will you pay me thirty pounds?"

"No!"

"Will you pay me fifteen pounds?"

Mum sighed. "If you behave well tonight, I will pay you five pounds. Will that ensure a pleasurable performance?"

"Ten pounds will get me to compliment Mrs. Potter's dress."

"Five pounds for all of it; take it or leave it."

I sighed. "I take it."

"Good," my mother said, beaming. "I'll give you the money after they leave if I feel that you have behaved well."

"All right," I grumbled. "But don't expect me to be nice to him after this dinner; after tonight, you will have to pay me again to get me to cooperate."

"No," my mother said. "You will be nice to Lisa Potter and her family whenever and if ever they come again. Do you understand me, Lily?"

"Unfortunately, I do."

"Excellent," she said. "Now, Mr. Universe wants my story in about a half an hour, so I need you to dig around in the refrigerator to see what we have in it, cook anything if necessary, and bring Petunia home. Can you please take care of all that?"

"Yes," I droned.

"Thank you." Mum stuffed a bunch of papers back into her briefcase, zipped it up somehow, and took it with her out the door. I rolled my eyes as I leaned back on the kitchen counter. According to the clock above the stove, it was two thirty in the afternoon.

That meant that I had five hours before my doom was to arrive for dinner.

Crap.

_Well, isn't Lily absolutely delighted with her situation? xD Lol. –Pokes next chapter- Read it to see what she does next! But don't forget to leave a review. :D_


	2. Tricky Business

**Chapter 2: Tricky Business**

_Yes, there is a reason why I named this chapter 'Tricky Business.' Read on; I don't have too much to say, because the story is pretty self-explanatory._

I took the stairs three at a time and began to clean up my room; I had dirty clothes, textbooks, parchment, quills, other miscellaneous books, and an assortment of girly accessories scattered across my floor, and James would probably want to come upstairs later, meaning that I would have to clean up.

After throwing things relatively into their rightful places, I ran to my bathroom to see how I looked. I was looking quite untidy in my oversized shirt and shorts, so I would obviously have to change. My hair needed a wash and a bit of bonding time with my mum's blow-dryer and I suddenly realized that I hadn't shaved my legs in two weeks. This was going to take a little longer than I had anticipated.

I picked up the phone and called Patricia's house; Petunia was there, and said that she would be home in about an hour. I didn't trust her an inch, so when I hung up the phone, I made a mental note to march over to their house and haul her back. I jumped into the shower, taking care to ensure that my legs were clean and my hair was well-washed. I put on my bathrobe and opened up my mess of a clothes cupboard.

What was one supposed to wear when their worst enemy was supposed to dine at their house in a few hours? I wish I knew, because it was very tricky business indeed. I couldn't look too proper because then it would seem like I cared about the family, which I didn't – not in the least bit. I also couldn't look too relaxed, because then my mother would get upset and the Potters would have a bad opinion of me; though I loathed their son, I didn't want the parents to be displeased with me. I picked several outfits, but I threw them all back in the cupboard; none of them would do.

I ended up wearing a white skirt which reached around mid-thigh with a sequined turquoise and white shirt. I spent an hour or so doing some extensive curling with some assistance from my curling iron and blow-dryer; once my hair was half-dry, I began to straighten it lightly, creating my favorite wavy style. I didn't want to tie it up after doing all I had to it, so I put in two white clips on either side; it looked rather nice. I even put on a little mascara, a subtle pink lipstick, and pearl earrings, which was not something I did very often. I was rather proud of myself; I looked presentable now, and my room did as well.

When I finished with myself and my room, it was nearly five. I ran downstairs, and like I had expected, Petunia was not there. I put on my sandals and ran over to Patricia's house a block away, pulled Petunia back to our house, and looked her over critically, trying to judge whether or not she was in any state to be seen in public.

"Lily, I don't want to attend this bloody dinner with the Potters," Petunia informed me irately. "Why must I?"

"Because Mum insisted on it," I said. "Believe me; I don't want to do this either. The boy who will be joining is one I dislike intensely."

"I heard Mum say that the James Potter you complain about incessantly is the one who is coming here tonight; is that why you're so ticked off?" Petunia asked.

"Our mother met his mother in the grocery store, apparently," I said, sighing. "I couldn't believe it either; I can't stand James."

"You said he wasn't even good-looking," she said. "What's the point of having him over then?"

"I dunno, but if I did, I would have done my best to prevent it from happening," I said. "I think your outfit looks all right though, so you can help me get dinner set up."

"Me? Set up dinner for a wizard freak and his family? No sir; I'm doing no such thing," Petunia refused. "You can do that yourself."

"Petunia, please; just help me," I said, handing her some plates and glasses. "Set up for six places, and put the silverware out as well. I need to make sure we actually have some food."

"Why do _I_ have to do this?" she whined. "I'm not in the mood; I wanted to be at Patricia's house. She had some gossip about our next door neighbor, and she was just about to tell me when you came in."

"You'll get over it," I said. "Now set the table, would you?"

"This is unfair," Petunia complained with a pout. "I don't want these people here."

"Believe me; you're not the only one," I muttered.

"Mum is always meeting weird new people," she went on in the same nasally voice as she began to set the table. "I don't want to have to see them if I don't want to."

"Damn it, we don't have enough food," I said. "Can you please shut up, Petunia? I need to think about what we have to cook."

"Well, I don't really care what it is, so long as it's not that salmon Mum tried to feed us last week," Petunia said daintily. "That was horrid."

"No, no," I said. "Unfortunately, we are not permitted to murder our guests, so that is out of the question. Otherwise, I would have happily served it to James."

"What about that chicken we had yesterday?" Petunia asked. "That was pretty good."

"Was Vernon here again?" I asked. "I thought we would still have some of that chicken, but it's not here anymore."

"Stop blaming everything on him," Petunia objected. "And for your information, no, he wasn't here. I think Dad probably ate it before he left for Spain the other day."

"Yeah, that's probably it," I said. "Damn, what are we supposed to eat?"

"You know how to cook, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but not very much," I said. "I only know how to make a few select chicken dishes and rice."

"Why don't you make the chicken and rice, and then make some steamed vegetables?" Petunia suggested.

"That's brilliant!" I raced to the refrigerator and began pulling things out at top speed. "How did you think of that?"

"I'm still free of the freak gene," she told me. "That means that I can think more clearly than you can about normal things; you're only good for the weird things."

I rolled my eyes, but otherwise ignored her comment. "Is the table ready?"

"Yes, it is," Petunia said, gesturing to the now-set table. "Now if you don't mind, I will be at Patricia's house."

"No, no, you will _not _be at Patricia's house," I said, lugging her back to the living room. "Talk to her on the telephone if you must, but you are not going anywhere. Mum insisted that you must stay for the dinner, and if you're not here when she comes back, then both of us will in trouble."

"All right, all right," she grumbled, picking up the phone sulkily. "I'll be up in my room. Call me when the freak show comes to town, would you?"

"Can you please stop calling all of us freaks?" I requested. "James is an _idiot_, not a freak; there is a difference."

"Well, you all wave sticks of wood and expect things to happen; it's not exactly normal, is it?" Petunia said, perching herself on the couch with the phone in her hand. "Leave me alone now; I have to talk to Patricia about what our neighbor did yesterday."

I rolled my eyes for the second time. "Fine. Just be ready when the Potters get here."

She responded to my call with a nod, but she was already speaking to Patricia when I next looked at her. I grabbed the cookbook off the shelf and opened it up to the correct page so that I could start with dinner; I had a lot to do before Mum and the Potters got to the house.

I lost track of time while I was making dinner. I wasn't too talented with the Muggle machines located in the kitchen, so the process was more painful for me than it should have been. When Mum got home at about seven twenty (Mr. Universe was known for holding her back overtime if she had done an exceptional job), she hardly noticed what all I had managed to get done in her absence; she just ran upstairs to change. Petunia was gossiping away with Patricia on the phone and I was left by the table, waiting for the Potters and my own family to come to the table.

"I'm so, so sorry Lils," my mother apologized as she gave me a tight hug. "You know how the boss gets; today, he was so thrilled with my story, he made me stay extra to show it to the rest of the employees as an 'example of excellence.' Then he bought me a celebratory coffee, and he wouldn't stop talking! It was difficult to get out even now, and I'm very sorry. Thank you for getting everything done."

"It's all right, Mum," I said, my previous impatience with her dying off when I saw how sincere she looked. Though she was supposed to be my mother, she felt more like my sister than anything else; there were even times when I thought that _I_ was the mother rather than her.

My musings were interrupted, however, by the trill of the doorbell. Inwardly, I was bawling; they were here. Mum told me to get the door while she tried to yank the phone from Petunia's ear, and I snickered to myself as I listened to their shouting. I took a deep, calming breath and made my most enigmatic smile before opening the door.

There, I saw, standing on my doorstep, a sight that I had thought would never meet my poor eyes; James Potter, neatly groomed, and accompanied by his parents.

_They're here! Remember: These are __not__ my characters – they are all J. K. Rowling's, leave me a review, and please read on to the next chapter:D_


	3. Meeting the Potters

**Chapter 3: Meeting the Potters**

_Again, not much to say. Read on. :D_

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Potter," I greeted them amiably, shaking their hands as they came in. "Welcome; thank you for coming."

"It's Lily, isn't it?" Mrs. Potter – Lisa – said excitedly. "Goodness, we have heard so much about you from James! How do you do?"

"Just fine, thank you," I said, keeping my voice civil and on-the-surface. "Let me take you to the drawing room." I led them to where my mother and Petunia had been shouting at each other earlier. They were both still there, but now they looked like they had been waiting there all along.

"Hello Lisa!" my mother cried, rushing forward to give her a hug. "And this must be your husband, Brian, and your son, James! I'm charmed!"

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Evans," James said smoothly.

"Oh, please; call me Michelle," Mum gushed, beaming down at him. Then she looked at the Potters, dragged Petunia and me up front, and said, "These are my daughters, Lily and Petunia."

"It's delightful to see such lovely young women," Mr. Potter said, smiling kindly towards us. I saw many of James's features in his face and build; it was almost unnerving. He too was muscled with a strong jaw, hazel eyes, and black hair, though his was actually tamed. When I looked over at Mrs. Potter, I saw that James's nose and the shape of his skin-tone had come from her.

"James has spoken of you often, Lily," Mrs. Potter told me conversationally.

"I should only hope you heard good things," I said sweetly.

"We did," Mr. Potter said. "James said you were beautiful and well-mannered; he was quite right."

I had nothing to say to this; I settled for blushing a rosy pink and sidling away to the kitchen. From there, I heard my mother tell James that Petunia and I would take care of him now. I groaned out loud; that was the very last thing I wanted. Petunia had already retired into her room, now that she had met the guests, and I knew that she would not come out again until it was time for dinner.

Sure enough, James entered my kitchen with his usual grin, and I got my first good look at him. He was dressed satisfactorily in blue jeans and a dark green t-shirt, and now that he had made his first impression, his hair was back to its uniform haystack. He laughed when he saw me, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Look Lily; we match," he said, pointing to my turquoise shirt. Sure enough, he was wearing almost the exact same shade. Joy.

"That's absolutely spectacular, James. Thank you for telling me; my life surely would not have been complete without that essential bit of knowledge." I couldn't help but be sarcastic; I did not want him there, and sarcasm was my way of showing that.

"Of course," he said. "But your mother expects you to entertain me, and I have so far seen no progress."

"What do you want me to do, then?" I asked through clenched teeth.

"We can go up to your room or something."

I had been right; thank goodness I had remembered to clean up my room before he came.

"Fine," I said indifferently, leading the way up the stairs and down the hall.

I opened the door and he walked in, examining everything with a lively interest. He laughed when he saw my collection of stuffed animals lining the top of my room.

"I never knew you liked stuffed animals, Lily," he said.

"I got them all as gifts from various birthdays," I explained irritably, sitting on my bed. "People seemed to think that from the time I was born to when I was about six, I loved stuffed animals. They were cute, so I use them as decorations."

"I see," he said. "Well, at least you didn't have to get books that you would 'grow into' for all those years. My Muggle relatives enjoyed giving me those."

"I got a lot of those too," I said, signaling to the bookshelf in the corner of my room. "But I liked the ones I got, and I actually did grow into them."

"Really?" James went over to the shelf and picked out a few books, reading the covers aloud. "Pride and Prejudice, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights…geez Lily; they gave you these when you were younger than six?"

"My mother wanted that," I said. "She saved a lot of money, since I like reading classics; I have all of them to read and reread whenever I want."

He shrugged. "I guess." He then began to inspect the rest of my room; he looked at all the trinkets I had, as well as all the photographs and posters, occasionally asking me questions about them. When he wandered into my bathroom, he picked up the curling iron and blow-dryer that I had forgotten to put away and asked me what they were.

"They are for fixing your hair," I said with a snort. "This is a curling iron; I use it to curl my hair, like this." I demonstrated how the curling iron worked. "This one is a blow-dryer, used for drying your hair quickly after you've washed it. When you press that button, hot air comes out."

"This is so odd," he said in wonderment, pressing the buttons. "I have to hand it to you Muggles; you get along well without magic. What other strange contraptions have you invented?"

Though I didn't really want to, I was forced to take James on a tour throughout our house and explain how perfectly ordinary things like telephones worked. He had many questions to ask, and insisted upon trying out whatever he could. He had the most fun when I showed him my father's exercise equipment; it wasn't every day that I saw someone fawn over how a treadmill worked.

"This is great!" James told me happily as he ran at ten miles an hour. "Maybe I should have tried all this Muggle stuff out ages ago!"

"Pity for you that you didn't," I said sarcastically, leaning back on the table near me while he continued to play with the equipment.

Throughout the whole expedition, James acted like a three year old child, and I remained hostile. I used sarcasm in every single thing I said to him, and took care to make faces at whatever 'experiment' he did with our Muggle possessions. He didn't care though; he kept fooling around anyway and disregarded my open enmity.

This was going to be much more painful than I thought it would be.

_-Sighs- No, nothing in Harry Potter is my own; all of it is the creation of J. K. Rowling. And I still have nothing much to say, so you may move on to the next chapter! Just remember that I love reviews. ;D_


	4. Dinner

**Chapter 4: Dinner**

_Uh oh…it's dinner time. –Scary music- I wonder what will happen next. But yeah, you all know the drill by now; none of this is mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's, remember to leave me reviews at the end, and continue on with the story._

When my mother called us downstairs for dinner, James had tried out every single Muggle appliance we owned. I was about ready to pull my hair out by that point; he was so tiresome! None of my negativity had any effect on him; he continued on undaunted, no matter what dry remark I made about it. That, alas, was the typical way of James Potter; it was one of countless things I hated about him.

We all took a seat around the dinner table by around eight-thirty. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were looking quite thrilled with what was laid out, even though there wasn't too much variety. Petunia was there as well - the vision of sourness - and she kept shooting James filthy looks. Normally, I wouldn't have condoned the rudeness towards a fellow magical person, but of course, this was James we were referring to; I let her look at him how she wanted.

"Everything is delicious, Michelle," Mrs. Potter complimented her as she tasted the vegetables. "These are the best vegetables I've ever had."

"Actually, I was held up at work all afternoon; Lily cooked for you tonight," Mum said, motioning towards me proudly.

"You're very gifted in the kitchen, Lily," Mr. Potter chimed in. "I've never had such good chicken."

"You flatter me," I said modestly, my typical blush coming to my cheeks. "You would be surprised how many times I screwed that recipe up."

"It's good though," James added. "I like it."

I gave him a very mocking sort of smile. "Why thank you."

"No problem." His voice was the same as before, but it had a cooled edge to it; he obviously didn't appreciate the aggression I was giving him.

"So…what are your special talents, James?" Mum asked, trying to bridge the awkward silence. "Are you into the arts?"

"I'm an athlete," James said. "I play Muggle sports, but I enjoy the Wizard sport Quidditch, the most."

"Lily is terrified of playing Quidditch," Petunia said all of a sudden. "She told me that she falls off a lot while she plays."

"Quidditch isn't for everyone," James said, his eyes flickering briefly to me. "It's played high above the air; a lot of people don't like heights."

"But you like activities like that?" Mum prompted.

"I love them," James said, unabashed. "I'll do anything dangerous, so long as I don't break my neck."

"Once, when we were out on holiday, James went bungee-jumping," Mr. Potter said. "Insane sports are all he likes to do."

"That's quite impressive," Mum said. "Lily hates those types of endeavors. She particularly doesn't like to swim; when she was four, she nearly drowned in the community pool because she fell in by mistake, and she refused to get near the water again."

"Poor thing," Mrs. Potter said affectionately to me. "I'm so sorry."

"It was a long time ago; it doesn't really matter," I said, crimson anyway.

"I can teach you how to swim some time, Lily," James volunteered.

"That would be so kind of you!" Mum exclaimed. "Lily, would you like James to teach you how to swim?"

"No thank you," I declined. "That's not necessary."

"It's fun, and very refreshing," Mr. Potter said. "You would love it, Lily."

"I'd rather not, but thank you for offering," I said, trying to hide my horror. Me in a bathing costume in front of James Potter! It was truly a fate worse than death.

The conversation kept going after that; we talked a lot about crazy sports that James had tried out, and my mother kept finding stories of me and my traumatizing childhood to share with the group. Petunia preferred not to speak to anyone, but when a tale about my misfortunes came up, she was the first to giggle. I tried not to say much on the subject of my youthful disasters, but I did blush a lot; the Potters kept telling me how sorry they were that I got into such accidents all the time.

Finally, after what felt like years, my mother sent Petunia to grab the fruitcake out of the pantry and I was supposed to get plates, forks, and a knife. I immediately left the table to do the task, but to my very great astonishment and dismay, James got up to help me.

"Here, give me the plates and I'll pass them around," he said, holding out his hand.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "You're the guest."

"It's fine," he said. "Just give it to me."

I shrugged and handed him the plates, which he promptly offered to everyone. I also got out the jug of iced tea and six cups; James forced me to let him pour it out for whoever wanted it. I never thought he would do something like that; it was such a courteous, wholesome act, so of course I would never see the famously arrogant James Potter doing it. But he did, and willingly, which was, I suppose, a credit to him. I even found myself smiling at him a little, and he smiled back warmly whenever he saw me.

What was going on here? James was implementing some manners? I never thought I'd see the day.

Something had to be very, very wrong here.

_Yes! James has manners! I know, I'm very surprised too. :D Anyway, I told you the whole disclaimer/review jazz at the beginning this time, so you can just move on to the next chapter now._


	5. Gossip

**Chapter 5: Gossip**

_I can tell you now that this is where trouble will arise. :O Continue on and see what will happen next!_

The adults decided to retire back to the living room to converse after they finished eating; Mum very nearly threw James out of the dining room, assuring him that Petunia and I could handle the dishes. Petunia, of course, did not do a thing; she went upstairs again, and I was left to the mess alone alone. I could hear my mother speaking from where I was, and on any other night, I would have overlooked it to finish up as fast as possible. Tonight, however, I heard my name mentioned, and I went straight to the door to eavesdrop.

"No, Lily doesn't have a boyfriend," Mum was saying. "She never really had anyone she was interested in…she's far too sensible for the silly boys around here. She never mentioned anyone in Hogwarts either, so I really don't know about her situation there. James, does Lily have a boyfriend?"

"She liked my friend Remus since fourth year," he admitted. "They went out a little this past year."

I wanted to kill him; how dare he tell my mother any of that?!

"Really?" My mother asked, her burning curiosity audible even from the dining room.

"Yes," James said. "She also went out with a few other boys, but she never stuck with them for more than a couple of months. Like you said, she is far too sensible for all of them. She also claims that none of them are really her type; she wouldn't really know them too well though, because she's outspoken to the point of sometimes being rude when she's around guys, and that kind of turns them off of her."

So_ that _was what he really thought of me? I definitely had some reasons to support my utter detestation of him now; that was about the only bright spot I could see from this humiliating discussion about my love life in my nonattendance.

"Lily isn't as outspoken as all of that, is she?" Mrs. Potter asked, seemingly worried. "She was rather shy during dinner."

"She isn't always that way," James said, now obviously starting to warm up to the situation. "Lily Evans is the pickiest girl in our year."

Picky! How could he call me picky when all the boys around me were jerks, including him?! I wanted to throw something at him very badly; how dare he say something like that when he thought I wasn't listening!

"You like Lily though, don't you James?" his father asked him slyly. I could practically hear the grin in his voice.

"I do," James said, unashamed. "She has her faults, but I don't mind them. I'd happily take her out, but when I ask her, she turns me down."

"Is she rude about it?" my mother asked. I wanted to cry; James now had the power to send my mother on a warpath with me.

"Well, sometimes," James answered. "But I might be a little rude in the way I ask."

"Lily is almost an adult in the Wizard world now," Mum said. "She just recently turned sixteen. I want her married by about eighteen, maybe nineteen."

"I would marry Lily in an instant, but she would never have me," James said.

"Look at you and your little crush!" Mum said, giggling. "I never knew my little Lily bear was so popular in school; she never told me, and she never brings her friends here – she's always at their houses."

I wanted to bawl all over again; how could my mother say things like that in front of people?! How could James be making all these statements about marrying me in front of my mother?! My anguish was far too advanced to be put into words.

"She's quite popular in our year," James said. "The boys she doesn't fancy all fancy her."

"The naughty girl; she never tells me any of this!" James was a gold mine of information for my childlike mother, and she had now come to realize this; that spelt trouble with capital letters for me.

"Now enough," Mrs. Potter commanded firmly. "Lily's personal life is her own business, and I think that my son has given you more than enough insight into it, Michelle." Had I mentioned before how much I adored Mrs. Potter? It was such a shame though; the greatest parents usually had the most hopeless children.

"Oh, but wouldn't it be something to marry James and Lily off?" Mum speculated, giggling madly again as she ignored Mrs. Potter. "I would love that! And I saw how they smiled at each other during dinner; it's a very real possibility! I have never seen my daughter smile like that at _anyone_."

I had taken quite enough; I put away what was in my hand and marched right into the living room, tears brimming in my eyes.

"I heard everything," I said, my voice quite shaky. "Every single thing you've said about me, I heard. I can't believe you would talk about me like that."

"We're all friends, Lily," Mrs. Potter said, keeping her voice low. "Anything said here shall go to no other ears; you know that, don't you?"

"That…that…that abomination there shall never be a friend of mine," I spat tearfully, glaring at James.

"Lily, I told the truth," he said, visibly trying to stay composed. "Everything I said was true, and I'm not going to deny it just because you don't like hearing about it."

"So all that shit about me being picky and 'outspoken to the point of being rude;' you think that it's all true?" I couldn't believe the nerve of him.

"Well, yes, but I was referring more to the part about my feelings for you," James said, a little pink by this point.

"Oh, so you think that after hearing all of the things that came out of your mouth this evening, I would want to believe that you like me?" I shouted. "Well, if so, you are highly mistaken; I can't bear you. I have always despised you, and now you see why."

"Lily!" My mother cried out, aghast. "That is no way to talk to a guest!"

"If he was a guest, and not a vile piece of scum, I would agree with you!" I snapped.

"Calm down, Lily," Mr. Potter said, taking over the job of controlling me. "I need you to keep your temper. Now, let your mother apologize for invading your privacy, and then I want you and James to talk things out upstairs, away from us."

I pursed my lips, but looked back at my mother with hostility. She did look quite ashamed now, and said, "I'm sorry, Lil. I shouldn't have tried to poke into your school life. But I am your mother; I should know about these things, shouldn't I? You're too distant; you don't tell me anything."

"I do it all for my own reasons, Mum, and you know that if I think that something is important enough to mention, I will tell you about it," I said a little more patiently. "And since I respect you, Mr. Potter, I will talk to James like you asked for, but let it be known that that is the _only_ reason I am going upstairs," I added as I took James's wrist and began to haul him up the staircase.

Oh yes; there was _definitely_ going to be some talking going on between the two of us, I thought grimly.

_Remember that the characters and all that belong to J. K. Rowling and not to me, and, as always, remember to leave me a review. Next chapter!_


	6. Figuring Things Out

**Chapter 6: Figuring Things Out**

_I wanted to break this chapter up further, as it's rather long, but unfortunately, I could find no place to stop it; the flow would have been completely screwed up if I tried, which, of course, would be bad. It doesn't matter though; this chapter is filled to the brim with LJ goodness, and is the second to last chapter in this thread. :)_

Once in my room, I let go of him and crossed my arms, waiting for him to say something. I was still perilously close to tears, but I tried to keep my glare defiant; I still couldn't bear having him in my sight, no matter what he did, and it was essential that he understood that.

"You probably expect me to apologize," he said after a moment of hostile stillness. "I have though; I have said what I had to say, and I obviously can't really say much more than that."

"You are the most intolerable cockroach that I have ever had the misfortune to be acquainted with," I said bitterly. "No apology on the face of this planet would change that opinion."

James shrugged, but sighed heavily. "I guess I deserve that to a certain extent, but I think you also have the right to know that you're about the only person I would admit something like that to."

"Flattered though I am, I must be firm on throwing you out of my room, since I have nothing else to say to you," I said, my mouth still set angrily and defiantly.

"Fate hates me," he said suddenly, as though I had not just spoken. "It must, if it tries to deprive me of someone like you."

"I just don't understand you!" I burst out, now frustrated out of my mind by his compliment. "I just don't! First of all, you make my school life completely miserable for five years while trying to convince me that you love me. Then, when all that is said and done, you come here with flawless manners, and actually impress me into thinking that you went through a transformation. Not even five minutes after that, you decide to act like a five-year-old with all of our Muggle objects. And, if that's not enough to baffle me, you become eloquent once again at dinner. But to top all this lunacy off, you go and gossip about me to both of our parents while trying to tell us all that you love me! Now _you_ tell me; what am I supposed to think of you?"

"Wow; when you put it like that, I do sound rather contradictory, don't I." He startled me by laughing as he said this.

"And now you've just regained your good humor and have been successful in befuddling me once again," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry, Lil; truly I am," he said, looking back at me. And this time, when he told me that, I trusted him. However, I still had a bit of pride to defend, so I decided not to tell him how I felt.

"For the sake of the three adults downstairs, I suppose I may forgive you," I said with a sigh as I let my guard come down a little. "Your parents are genial, good-hearted people; though how such people produced a moron like you is beyond my field of knowledge. Still, I feel that they want us to be on fair terms with one another, and that is the _only_ reason I am saying something like this."

"The kindness in your soul is blissfully high, O Mighty Lily Evans," James declared as he bent down on one knee. "How may I ever thank you, an angel in all your heavenly perfection, for the sympathy you have bequeathed upon me, a flawed, besotted young peasant?"

I couldn't help but laugh; it was only rational when someone gave you such a question. "Well, 'flawed, besotted young peasant,' you can start by getting up from the ground." He did so, but in the most comical manner I had ever seen. I giggled again before saying, "Now you have to stop confusing me so much. Do you suffer from a multiple personality disorder that I'm not conscious of or something? You are the most bewildering person I have ever met."

"Well, to simplify things for you, let's just say that I have a monstrous crush on you that can never seem to be quenched," he said, his smile as light as ever, but his eyes the most intense they had been for the entire evening.

I could feel my cheeks going red, but I rolled my eyes anyway. "You are completely incongruous."

James shrugged. "Maybe. Probably."

I allowed myself one final chuckle at his matter-of-fact frankness before I took him to the door. "It's time for you to go home," I told him. "I don't think I would be able to handle your presence in my house for another minute, even."

"That's a pity," he said while he exited my room. "I had quite a lot of fun tonight."

"Speak for yourself," I could help but mutter as we went downstairs again.

James laughed. "Admit it; you had fun too. Having me around isn't as bad as you thought it to be."

"No," I agreed. "It was infinitely worse."

He rolled his eyes at me, grinning all the while. "Don't lie about everything, Lily; it's not your talent."

"Are you trying to imply that you think I like you?" The unthinkable thought struck me as soon as the tone of voice had processed in my head; that had to be reason he was saying all of these stupid things.

"I will give you that your talent is deciphering double meanings, however," James said, nodding. "You pick things up extraordinarily well, Miss Evans."

"Well, you are highly erroneous in this matter," I said stoutly, leaning against the front door, still facing him. "I do not like you any more than I did before."

"That's another sign," he said. "I've noticed that throughout my five years of knowing you, your speech has become increasingly articulate."

"It comes with growing up."

"Perhaps with some people, but not with you," he said. "You talk more formally when you're nervous, as I have observed. And, in this particular type of circumstance, the only reason you would be nervous would be if you were afraid of me figuring out how much you like me."

I wanted to smack him across the face; how could he suggest something like that?! I had never liked him the way he was suggesting. I had never even been aware that I liked him at all. Did I like him now? Not really. I mean, he had been fairly charismatic tonight, which had pleasantly surprised me, but I still didn't like him yet. He was still a big-headed baboon, and I told him that. When I did though, he laughed yet again.

"A big-headed baboon?" he asked in the middle of his laughter. "Me? No; it couldn't be."

"It is," I enlightened him. "You are the very definition of the insult."

His grin turned rather impish as he watched at me carefully. "Lily, I want to try something, and I wish that you would permit me to do so."

"What do you want to do?" I thought I knew the answer, but I couldn't be sure.

James put his hand on the side of my face and came forward. He was less than three centimeters away from me, and his lips were terrifyingly close to mine. I had to remember how to breathe; it was nearly impossible to though, when my heart was pumping blood at five times its normal rate. He was hesitating, probably to see how he would be taken, but also because he was tense; I had never let him come this close to me. I didn't even know why he was that close to me in the first place; I suppose I had just been taken by surprise.

He was about to do it; he was really about to kiss me. His lips lingered right in front of mine, but somehow, he couldn't make himself kiss me all the way. I had never known James to be so unsure of himself; normally, he would have just gone ahead and done what he had to do. I was too alarmed to kiss him myself; he would have to be the one to do it if he wanted it. He did, and I could feel it, but there was something that was holding him back that I couldn't make out.

I'd had enough though; he was there, and I wanted that kiss for reasons I couldn't even begin to identify. I didn't know why I wanted James Potter, the king of the parasites, to do something like that, but I did, and I felt the need to trust this desire. That was why I tilted my head to come that last, awkward distance between us, but just before I was about to press my mouth to his, I heard a voice calling us from the drawing room, which was down the hall from the door where we were at.

"Lily, James!" It was Mum; I heard her footsteps come near and then stop dead. I took my hand away from James's just as his dropped to my shoulder, and I took in her thunderstruck expression. I could only imagine what she must be seeing; her sixteen-year-old daughter, just about to kiss a boy she had sworn to hate since she was eleven years old.

"It was nothing," I tried to say, my cheeks turning a vivid red. "I-I can explain everything."

My mother was too petrified to say anything; she could only gibber. She gestured for Mr. and Mrs. Potter to come where she was, and see us, with James's hand still on my shoulder. They came, and Mrs. Potter's face broke into a wide smile similar to the one James wore when he won a Quidditch match.

"Were we interrupting something?" she asked.

"No," I said, trying to regain my no-nonsense conduct once again. "No, James was…was…James, what were you doing?"

"I-I was…well…" he stuttered, now the color of a beetroot.

"No, no, it's all right," Mrs. Potter said eagerly. "Were you about to kiss her, James?"

"I-"

I turned my face away, wanting nothing more than to melt through the ground. Mrs. Potter was looking absolutely enthralled, but it was Mr. Potter who spoke again.

"We were just about to leave, so would you like to tell Lily good-bye?"

I swallowed hard and looked back to James, my eyes boring into his, trying to analyze the emotion in them. There were far too many though, so I just cleared my throat to prompt him into a farewell.

He got the message. "Well, erm, good-bye, Lily," he stammered. "Thank you for an…interesting evening." He walked robotically to my mother and said, "Thank you for having us tonight."

"It was our pleasure, dear," Mum said fondly. Then, to my absolute mortification, she ruffled his hair before giving him a hug; I could have literally melted to the floor at that point. She seemed unaware of my reaction, however; she just screeched for Petunia to come and say good-bye as well. Petunia was apparently painting her nails and could not come; she yelled her good-bye from her room. James's eyes met mine, and I could see he pitied me for having such an appalling sister.

"Thank you so much for coming, Lisa and Brian," Mum said to them merrily, shaking the Potter's hands. "We must do this again some time."

"We should," James agreed in a quiet voice, his gaze falling back on me. I bit my lip, and the red color on my cheeks returned at once, but I did not let my eyes leave his face. He smiled at me and then looked back at my mother.

"We must get a move on, then," Mrs. Potter said. "Thank you once again." She hugged me and said, "Now we must have _you_ over, Lily; James would never forgive me if I didn't invite you."

"Maybe," I said shyly. "It all depends on how much or how little James's ego changes; the conceit of that child is astoundingly high."

James laughed, but couldn't respond, because Mr. Potter opened the door, and Mrs. Potter began to push him out. "You must call us again to arrange something, Michelle!" she shouted back to us as they went down the lawn.

I closed the door with a sigh, and watched them walk together from the window with a variety of sensations taking residence in my stomach.

It had been a very strange night.

_I don't know why they expect me to say it so much, because it kills me every single time, but I do not own anything or anyone mentioned in the Harry Potter series; lovely James and lovely Lily are J. K. Rowling's, unfortunately – not mine. Oh yeah, and there is one more chapter; don't forget that:D_


	7. An Ending of Sorts

**Chapter 7: An Ending of Sorts**

_Yes, I know you are in awe of my chapter naming skills right about now, but we must wave those aside for the time being, because you probably want to know how the story ends. :D_

After a minute or so, I left the window and turned back around to face my mother. She stared at me with a mix of feelings, but then she said, "So…you're in love with James Potter after all, are you?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "I thought I hated him all evening. Sometimes, when a girl likes a boy, she'll be in denial; she'll say that she hates him while there's actually a yearning for him inside of her. I know that. But this time, it didn't work like that way; it was a clear-cut hatred up until the point when he tried to kiss me. Then…then I don't even know what happened. It was just a matter of urgency that he kissed me. I'm glad he didn't though; thank you for walking in when you did."

My mother hugged me tightly. "Poor little Lily," she crooned. "Would the money I promised you make you feel a bit better?"

"No," I said with yet another sigh. "I don't want the money. I was rather rude to them when you were gossiping anyway."

"I guess." Mum though for a moment, then kissed the top of my head. "Are the joys of your very first love confusing you again?"

"Yes," I said. "I've never felt this way before; is it really love? It's so strange; I _never_ had any positive feelings for him until I let him nearly kiss me."

She laughed. "That's how I felt when I first met your father. He was a little like James is; charming when it's necessary, infuriating when he's alone with you. But eventually, you just know how you really feel; it only requires a bit of patience and honesty."

"I can't do that," I told her. "James is the most perplexing person I have ever met."

"Just hang in there," she said, laughing again. "It'll work out in the end – for the better or for the worse."

With that, she went into the kitchen, leaving me by the door. I sighed for the third time and stood there, thinking about James. What had that feeling been, right before he nearly kissed me? Had it been a longing for him? It might have been, but at the same time, it couldn't be; I had never felt that sort of thing before, and love for another was supposed to grow over time, rather than jump up all at once.

My deliberations were interrupted then, however, by a knock on the front door. Curiously, I opened it, and James was standing there, panting.

"It's insanely difficult to get rid of my parents for a few minutes, but I had to do it; I had to say good-bye to you properly," he said, smiling up at me.

"And what does saying good-bye properly require?" I asked, my mood immediately improved.

James's smile widened as he leaned forward again. I stepped outside in my bare feet and began to kiss him softly.

It was far too wonderful to be where I was; I had to be dreaming. I continued to kiss him, but I didn't let him run away with it; I had to keep it simple, otherwise I would be too frightened to do anything ever again, which would, of course, be awful. After an immeasurable amount of time in heaven, I pulled apart, and his eyes were strangely glistening. I gave him a half-smile and whispered, "Good-bye."

"Thank you," he breathed, his voice nearly inaudible, even though he was still only about an inch away from me. "For…everything."

My smile became full as I said, "You're welcome."

He beamed back at me before turning to walk away, but as he went, he asked me, "Do you still hate me?"

"Of course!" I said back. "You are still the most intolerable cockroach that I have ever had the misfortune to be acquainted with."

James laughed. "And I still happen to have that monstrous crush on you."

"I hate you!"

"I love you!"

I was in fits of laughter as I closed the door; my happiness was far too cosmic to be described. I ran up to my room and danced around it, squealing like I had when I had first received the letter that accepted me to Hogwarts. I had gotten my first kiss! The fact that it was from James Potter was, of course, a bit of a dampener, but I was excited nonetheless. And though my feelings for him are always wildly varying, I wanted my chance to celebrate; I knew that later, when I got more time alone with him, I would probably not have much to celebrate, and I wanted to get the most out of the moment.

I did ultimately have to stop squealing though, because Petunia snapped at me to shut up, but I was still giddy as I changed into my night clothes and got into bed.

James Potter.

I definitely hadn't seen that one coming.

Fate was such a bitch sometimes.

_Yay! I'm done:D And as for Lily's sudden mood change near the end: to clear things up on that, she's just excited because she got her first kiss. She still sort of loathes James, but she's more celebratory for the kiss right now. Did you like it though? Please let me know. –Pokes the review button- You know you're just dying to press it. :D Anyway, so thank you for reading, and I hope you smiled at least a little bit at the antics of James and Lily._

_Ooh, yes, and if I get enough requests for it, I may possibly be planning a sequel. :D Hehe._

_Final, Ending Disclaimer: Regretful though I am to say it, these wonderful characters and this fantastic school of magic do not belong to me at all whatsoever; everything in the Harry Potter series is in the sole ownership of the ridiculously talented J. K. Rowling, and I am but a bored, humble teenager who wants to play around with her story. Remember that._


End file.
